


Knife and remedy

by Celinarose



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Fear, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 21:19:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13772766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celinarose/pseuds/Celinarose
Summary: All he wanted was the knife. An ending.





	Knife and remedy

The knife always stays there, in its stand. He passes it by, often enough, and each time, the glistening silver distracts him for the span of a few moments. It is beautiful, almost never used, and as sharp a blade as he has ever seen. The handle is dull wood, straight, with fingerholds, almost a stark contrast to the curved mirror of the blade that would have been sacrilege to touch.

 

It tempts him, more than any other thing. It calls out to him, always, like a nagging insistence at the back of his mind. It keeps him sane too, oddly enough; not the knife itself, but the thought of its power.

 

He never touches it, however. He knows better. It will be too hard to resist the urge, if he has the dagger in his hand. Instead, he lets his hate steep within. He, like all though oppressed, fears and detests his oppressor. The constant torment becomes too much sometimes, and yet he finds it in himself to swallow his pain. Occasionally, it resurfaces in sobbing outbursts in the middle of the night, when the cause of his nightmares may not hear. Then, he closes his eyes, and imagines the blade in his palm, as he plunges it downwards, blood welling through the cut when the knife easily slices through the flesh. The image gives him relief, and he drifts off to sleep with a smile and the hope of 'someday'.

 

The day comes sooner than he expects. The day, when he finally snaps under all the cruelty. Yet, his tormentor remains blissfully unaware of the fact. He surprises even himself with how well he hides it. It is nearly midnight when he finds himself standing over a bed, holding his knife. Yes, it was his now. It seemed to fit perfectly into his hand, and he ran his fingers lazily over the cold metal. It was just right.

 

He lifted his armed hand, just as he had for all those years in his visions and brought it down. But abruptly, he stopped halfway, as a sudden query arose. On whose heart was the blow to land? The monster's? Or his own? Either choice would bring about an end to his burdens. Either would make him a killer. One, however, was undoubtedly more selfish than the other, for the cruel one would surely make others suffer, if he simply chose his own escape. He smiled, knowingly. Then, he raised the knife and plunged.

**Author's Note:**

> That went a bit more Black Swan than I expected. Inspired by the quote, "Love is both poison and cure, both knife and remedy."
> 
> Also going to take a moment to thank the one guest who kudos'd so many of my works! (I assume it's one person because I suddenly recieved a kudos on many works)


End file.
